


Dragonlord's Call

by Val_Creative



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluffy Ending, M/M, Magical Accidents, Mildly Dubious Consent, Sexual Content, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2018-03-15 10:35:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3443969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/pseuds/Val_Creative
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aithusa’s gotten into the bad habit of teething on the bedposts. <i>Teething.</i></p><p>With her dragon fangs, and everything. Merlin has all these horrible mental images of splinters in her jaws and bloody gums, so he orders harshly, edges of his blue eyes flickering orange-gold, “<i>Stop doing that. Now.</i>”</p><p>At the same time she lets go of the jagged, thoroughly gnawed post, Arthur’s hands go lax, spilling his open bottle of ink all over the court documents.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dragonlord's Call

**Author's Note:**

> doctorcallahan's request: "I know this has probably been done before, but I was hoping you could write a fic where Merlin uses his Dragonlord voice near Arthur (say on either Kilgharrah or Aithusa), and then they realise that it works on Arthur as well, and Merlin refuses to use it around Arthur again but Arthur actually REALLY likes it. Can it also be established Merthur please, and I would prefer kinda explicit but if not that's okay!"
> 
> DEANONING FOR MERLICFICDRIVETHRU AS FIC'S AUTHOR!

 

Aithusa’s gotten into the bad habit of teething on the bedposts.  _Teething_.

With her dragon fangs, and everything. Merlin has all these horrible mental images of splinters in her jaws and bloody gums, so he orders harshly, edges of his blue eyes flickering orange-gold, “ _Stop doing that. Now._ ”

At the same time she lets go of the jagged, thoroughly gnawed post, Arthur’s hands go lax, spilling his open bottle of ink all over the court documents.

Merlin’s panic doesn’t stem from the ruined papers, or the waste of several hours formulating the tax deeds, but the  _euphoric_ , lost look on Arthur.

"Clotpole…?" He approaches from the right, trying to not hurry over and trip over the fallen bits of armour scattered to the floor.. Something’s  _wrong_. Merlin waves a hand in front of Arthur’s face. “Oi… Arthur?”

"Mer…lin?" passes Arthur’s lips, slowly. His eyes begin to focus, bright with feverish intent. The other man manages to get a good, long look at the hardened lump in Arthur’s trousers, before Merlin finds himself snatched onto.

Arthur kisses him like he’s  _begging_ for a taste, or for a swallow of water on a hot, damned afternoon. On familiar instinct, Merlin lets Arthur’s tongue slip inside him, pressing damp and sweeping against his own. He runs his hands up Arthur’s sides, feeling hips clash with his, feeling Arthur’s hard prick twitch.

He lets Arthur fuck into him later, sloppy with oil and clumsier than usual, like Arthur’s somehow gotten off the heat of Merlin’s tight arse. But truth is, Merlin himself is trying not to howl with pleasure when they writhe together.

*

He’s not sure how it’s happened, but Arthur has become susceptible to the Dragonlord’s Call.

Merlin avoids spending time with Aithusa around him.

Which is a shame—because she loves Arthur, just as much as Merlin. Being with them at the same time, snuggling up besides them, just doubles the joy.

"It doesn’t  _hurt_ me, you idiot,” Arthur insists, pressing his dry lips behind one of Merlin’s ears and snuffling a little into his hair, and fuck, Merlin’s getting hot all over. A pulse echoes down his cock. ”It’s  _arousing_ —there’s a difference.”

"I don’t like it," Merlin says, muttering and scooting closer to the other naked man. Arthur’s pillows are  _heaven_ and he wants to stay forever in this bed.

"Don’t punish Aithusa for it."

"I’m not," he insists, turning his head a moment for Arthur’s fingers touching affectionately over a reddened bitemark on the surface of Merlin’s throat.

"We’ll be more careful next time," Arthur says, seriously— _thank fuck_.

"And when are  _you_ ever careful?” 

Merlin’s head aches the tiniest bit from the hit of the pillow, but he laughs. Merlin laughs, good and long, feeling Arthur’s warm hands pin him down.

 


End file.
